


Don't Leave

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Explicit Language, Incest, Multi, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-26
Updated: 2005-09-26
Packaged: 2018-10-01 01:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10177715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Back story to ‘Beyond Redemption’ (set in Malfoy Manor the night that Lucius leaves for the Department of Mysteries, followed by Draco’s reaction to the events the next morning) Narcissa begs Lucius to reconsider going, if not for her but for Draco.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

** Don’t Leave **   
_A Beyond Redemption Back Story_   
_By Aurora Enkeli Medeis_

\- - -

For this Story:

**Rating(s)** : R, at most  
 **Characters(s)** : Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.  
 **Warning(s)** : adult language, het (because you know it’s there), hints at slash/incest.

**Summary** : Back story to ‘Beyond Redemption’ (set in Malfoy Manor the night that Lucius leaves for the Department of Mysteries, followed by Draco’s reaction to the events the next morning) Narcissa begs Lucius to reconsider going, if not for her but for Draco.

\- - -

**Notes** : This was written as a big, humongous thank you to the reviewers on hpfandom for getting us to 300 reviews. I swear, you reviewers (on all the sites!) are all wonderfully, gorgeous stars. There are, of course, hints of slash and incest but it’s only because you’ve all read BR (thus are highly perverted) that you’ll know it’s there. This is so Malfoy family-centric it’s unbelievable- I love it!

\- - -

**N** arcissa Malfoy swept elegantly up one of many staircases in the manor. She had been informed by a house elf that ‘Master Lucius’ was crashing around in his study, clutching his arm and rummaging in drawers. Promptly, Narcissa had sat down her glass of overly priced white wine and abandoned her novel in favour of discovering just what had gotten her husband so rattled.

Her long blonde hair and thin, pale blue robes flowed behind her as she strode along the corridor, high heeled slippers clicking softly on the wooden floor. She heard something being tossed against a wall of Lucius’ study at the same moment she opened the door.

“I take it you have been summoned,” Narcissa said casually as she went over the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of scotch.

“Yes,” was all Lucius said from where he was sitting writing at his desk. Narcissa summoned the empty crystal glass from beside Lucius and poured a vast quantity of the scotch into it.

“What is it that has you so stressed?” Narcissa asked as she walked over to her husband.

“The Dark Lord is sending us into the Ministry of Magic,” Lucius replied distractedly. Narcissa’s hold on the glass slipped but she regained it before it dropped to the floor. Instead of sitting it on the desk, Narcissa took a large mouthful of the amber liquid, screwing up her face as she slammed it down.

“You are not going,” Narcissa said, her voice quiet but stern. Lucius looked up from his parchment.

“It was not in my understanding that you had any say in the matter,” he said sharply. Narcissa scowled.

“Why are you being sent there?” she asked, watching Lucius take a long mouthful of scotch, his tongue flicking out to catch a bead of liquid that had settled on his bottom lip.

“Potter is being lured there under the pretence of an attack on his mutt of a godfather,” Lucius said coldly, “there is something our Lord wishes to be retrieved from the Department of Mysteries. I am to lead his selected group.”

When Lucius had downed the last of his scotch he looked up to see his wife staring at him with wide eyes. She shook her head slightly, shock subsiding and she narrowed her eyes.

“What on earth does the Dark Lord want?” Narcissa asked. Lucius turned away from her, sliding his wand in his robes.

“I cannot tell you that. It is a matter of secrecy,” he replied, sweeping past her and out into the dimly lit corridor. She stared at him incredulously, following him out the room.

“I am your wife,” she said through gritted teeth. She was a tall woman and the height of her slippers made her a mere inch and half shorter than her husband so she kept well in time with his stride. “If _our_ Lord has instructed you to leave _our_ home on a foolish errand I would like a reason.”

Lucius stopped dead and stared at Narcissa. He took a threatening step towards her but she didn’t flinch- she’d put up with Lucius’ temper for almost twenty years, far too long to ever be bothered by it. 

“Do not,” he said lowly, point a long finger at Narcissa, “suggest that the Dark Lord is a fool.”

Narcissa glared, snatching out to grab the pointed finger. She twisted it round and Lucius hissed, pulling it from her grip.

“He was not the one I was calling a fool,” she said, her eyes narrowed to the point of nearly being grey slits. He glared at her and continued walking. Unabashed, Narcissa pursued. 

“You do not think,” Narcissa said as Lucius threw open the doors to the Master bedroom, the dark wood hitting off the walls, “that half of that entire Order will show up?” 

Lucius wrenched open one of the cupboards, using his wand to open a concealed door at the back.

“We will fight them,” Lucius said slowly, pulling out a heavy black cloak. Narcissa snorted.

“You will be completely out numbered and out magicked,” she said. Lucius whirled round, staring at her accusingly.

“Do you imply that I am weak?” He hissed and Narcissa threw her arms up in exasperation. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she spat back, “I am implying that those you will ‘lead’ are examples of how well nature can form moronic yes-men with the magical powers of a squib after a Kwikspell course. They are only in the Dark Lord’s favour because they have pure blood but each one of them is more of an idiot than the old coot Hogwarts calls a Headmaster.”

Lucius stared at her for moment before huffing and turning away, shrugging the heavy cloak onto his shoulders.

“Perhaps you should keep your feelings about my cohorts to yourself in future,” he replied, fastening the silver clasps of the robes.

“Lucius, in eighteen years of marriage you have yet to be able to silence my opinions, do not think I will change the habit of a lifetime now.”

Lucius took a key from the pocket of his robes and inserted it into the top of a box. He knew Narcissa was right, of course, in all their years together she had yet to be wrong but sometimes, he just wished that his out spoken wife would not voice the truths that were already eating away at him. He turned the key and the lid slid open. 

“The Dark Lord will understand you having your reservations,” Narcissa said, unable to disguise the pleading tone that was creeping into her voice, “you are vital to his Inner Circle, he will not want to risk losing you.”

Lucius looked down at the white mask that sat proudly on a cushion of black velvet inside the box, hesitating for the briefest moment before steeling himself.

“If he didn’t want to risk me, then I would not be going on this mission in the first place,” he replied, taking the mask out of the box and closing it. He shut the cupboard over and turned to face his wife. As he got closer he could see the emotion shining on her face and a slow building of acceptance in her grey eyes.

“If you will not stay for me,” she said softly, lowering her gaze to the floor, “stay for Draco.”

She kept her eyes trained on the floor as she let her words sink in. It was a submissive gesture that she hated using but she knew Lucius would recognize it as such, she just hoped he wouldn’t realise it was really a last ditch effort at making him feel too guilty to leave. 

Lucius was hesitating, his grip on his mask tightening with every second that ticked by. As a Death Eater his loyalty was to the Dark Lord but as a husband and father his loyalty lay at home with his family. In the event of his capture, or worse his death, Lucius knew that Narcissa could be strong, could hold her head up high and carry on. But Draco, his little dragon- he had only just turned sixteen, had only just been welcomed into the Inner Circle. 

Could he be as strong as his mother could be? Part of Lucius hoped that yes, Draco could be but he knew in his heart that it was not true. Being without Draco during the school year was almost unbearable, for both Lucius and Narcissa, but they knew that they would see him again and it consoled them through the months. If Lucius were incarcerated, with no knowledge of when he may see his son …the thought made his heart physically ache.

“I cannot stay,” he said, shaking his head as he slid past Narcissa. 

She followed him along the corridor and down the main staircase into the Entrance Way. Two house elves opened the Manor doors, a light June breeze blowing a few stray red petals onto the stone steps. Narcissa grabbed Lucius’ wrist in her hand as he tried to leave, turning him slightly to face her.

“Please,” she whispered, “don’t leave.”

Lucius sighed, taking a look around the Entrance Hall and then at Narcissa, wondering, not for the first time, if it would be his last time seeing this beauty and splendour. 

“I have to,” Lucius said, sliding his mask on with his free hand. Narcissa leaned upwards, pressing a soft kiss to the cold, porcelain cheek of her husband’s mask. With a swipe of her thumb, Narcissa wiped away the slight imprint from her lightly coloured lipstick. Lucius hung his head, long locks of blond hair falling from beneath his raised hood. 

He turned and descended the steps, the slowly setting sun casting, what Narcissa saw as, an eerily ominous red glow over her husbands retreating form. A breeze caught the bottom of her robes, blowing them around her ankles as she absently stroked her platinum wedding band.

\- - -

Draco poured milk into his cereal, looking up as Blaise pointed out his family’s eagle owl swooping into the hall. He frowned as he scooped a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, crunching it as the owl landed in front of him.

“A bit early, isn’t it?” Blaise said absently, looking up for signs of more owls. Draco nodded as he took the offered letter and the owl left, assumedly back to Malfoy Manor. The envelope was addressed in his mother’s sweeping hand writing, green wax embossed with the Malfoy crest, sealing it shut at the back. Draco ripped it open, sliding out the parchment and unfolding it.

_Draco,  
I hope this has reached you before the other post as there is something I do not wish you to hear from the Daily Prophet. I think it would be best for you to read this somewhere other than breakfast._

Draco got up quickly, offering no explanation as to his disappearance before swinging his leg over the bench and striding out the hall. He heard some students gossiping about Potter, mumbling something about him being in the Hospital Wing or something similar. Draco hoped the Gryffindor was seriously injured. 

It was a nice morning and Draco chose to wander out into the morning sun, dew still glistening on the grass as Draco rounded the corner and sat down by the fountain in the courtyard. The water was trickling and a small bird was chirruping happily in a bush. Draco scowled, wishing it would shut up. He unfolded the letter and went back to reading.

_The Prophet, this morning, will be reporting the capture of a group of Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic. Draco, your father was leading them._

Draco blinked, once, twice, noticing that the bird wasn’t chirping any more. He rubbed at his grey eyes, heart thumping behind his lungs and ribs. 

_The Aurors took him to Azkaban. I got in contact with our family’s lawyer as soon as I received the news but given your father’s history, it’s going to be hard to find him a way out of prison. But please, my dragon, do not worry, we will get him home to us. I promise you._

_See you very soon._

The letter fluttered to the ground, Draco’s palms still facing upwards where they were resting on his thighs. His father was gone, imprisoned and unlikely to be released anytime soon, if ever. He loved both his parents, unconditionally only the way a child could. But he loved his father in so many other ways. Ways he knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t help it, wouldn’t stop it, never. His body ached every moment of every day when he was away from his father but he knew that they would be reunited at some point. Now there was no certainty in anything.

His heart skipped a beat. The Dark Lord- he would have a plan. Wouldn’t he? Draco nearly snorted, of course he would. His father was one of the Inner Circle, Voldemort’s right hand fucking man. He would be out of Azkaban soon. He had to be. 

Draco gripped the edge of the bench. Small splinters that had flaked of varnish dug into his palms and he hissed. The pain was nothing- he barely noticed it in the numbness he was feeling all over his body but it wasn’t unpleasant. The marks tingled, a brief flit of endorphins giving him a small rush. It took the edge away for a small second and he filed the knowledge away for later use, should he need it. His eyes burned but any thought of letting even one tear slip down his cheek was quickly quashed. His mother wanted him to be strong. His father would _expect_ him to be strong.

A couple of fourth year Ravenclaws walked by, talking to each other about Potter, his heroics and the Ministry of Magic. They cast Draco furtive glances but Draco just sneered and they hurried away. 

Potter.

It was that fucking Gryffindor and his precious little D.A. that had caused this. They had inflicted this upon Draco. It was Potter’s fault that his father had been torn from him. 

Draco’s hands began to shake as he stood up, wondering briefly if more pain, more anything would take this aching and longing away. It hurt so much that Draco knew there must be something he could do to just take it away, if only for a few moments. He had to see Severus, he realised, striding back towards the Entrance Hall. 

Another group of students were whispering about Potter and Draco seethed. Wherever Potter was, Draco hoped he was hurting at least half as much.

\- - -

**Fin**.  
 _A/N: This was so fun to write, not in a happy, dancing around the room way but a fulfilling, challenging, enjoyable way. As I read it over I realised how little the majority of HP readers considered how Draco must have felt on hearing that his own father was in prison. Not to mention how Narcissa must have reacted. The bad guys have feelings too! That’s the beauty of BR- bringing sympathising and empathising characteristics to those you should be hating. So, in short, thanks again to everyone who has been following BR and reviewing. Not just on HPFandom but on The Silver Snitch and Live Journal- it really wouldn’t be the same without you all here with us._  
Kisses,  
Rora.

\- - -


End file.
